


Million Bucks

by impish_nature



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Revelations, Sea Grunks, just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 19:18:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: It didn't matter where they were or what they were doing. Nothing ever surprised Ford quite as much as Stan himself.





	Million Bucks

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluff~ Idea came from the chorus of a good song friend sent me <3 Just something little and fun I had to do <3

"Hey, Stan- what's this?"

"Hmm? What's what? I need more than that, Sixer. With you that could be literally anything from the blindingly obvious to the impossible." Stan grinned at the strangled noise of sibling exasperation the words pulled as he walked back towards his brother in the cabin.

"When have I ever asked you what something is, if I can see exactly what it is?" 

The reply made his grin stretch wider, abject indignation ringing through every word. The notion that his genius of a brother would ask him anything obvious an offence he just couldn't stand by. 

He wondered how long it would take before Ford started pinching at the bridge of his nose, endearing irritation at his constant teasing.

"When I've stolen it." He popped his head in through the cabin doorway, expression childish and smug as his brother faltered in what he was sure would have been a quick response if he hadn't thrown him for a loop.

"I..." Ford frowned, finger pointing almost accusingly at him before his arm flopped to his side defeated. "Alright, point taken. But that doesn't mean I didn't have a point to asking. Even if I could  _technically_  see what it was."

"That's fair." Stan shrugged. "So...?"

"So? So- oh! Right. This." 

Stan raised an eyebrow as Ford gestured to their overflowing desk, strewn with a myriad of maps and journals as well as a scattering of nautical equipment and strange trinkets they'd collected along their trip. Well, that wasn't fair. He could clearly see his brother pointing at a specific book in particular amongst the carnage, but still where would the fun be in showing that? "Still need a bit more than that, Sixer. That desk really needs a tidy."

"Oh, for-" 

Stan flinched slightly as Ford moved. He knew that this wasn't going to turn into an all out fight but that wouldn't stop Ford throwing said item at him for being his teasing jovial self. As it was his brother shoved it into his chest instead, a satisfied half smile slipping on his face as Stan fumbled for the journal. "It's a book, Ford. That's what it is."

"...I hate you so much."

"No, you don't." Stan hummed, thumbing the book open and seeing his own handwriting staring back at him. Truth be told though, he still didn't get what Ford was actually asking him, even amongst all his mockery. "Sorry, bro, I'm still not really following. Should it not be on the desk or something? Cause I can move it, if that's what it is." He eyed the desk again over Ford's shoulder, squinting distastefully at it. "We really should tidy more. We lose so many things for living on such a small boat."

"I was doing that!" Ford huffed, crossing his arms and looking fairly put out. "I was trying to tidy up some of the maps we don't need hanging around right now and I found that." He gestured at Stan's hands. "I couldn't remember what was in it so I flicked through and- Stan, I thought you were looking after our budget?"

It was Stan's turn to pull back, frown etching on to his face at the serious reproach in his brother's tone. He couldn't quite help the way hi hackles raised, defensive and hurt by the implied accusation. "Oi! I have been!"

Ford blinked, frown shifting into confusion. "I- sorry, that came out badly." He shrugged, pulling the book down to flick to the latest page. "I just... didn't expect this I guess." 

Stan narrowed his eyes, gaze darting across the page though to no avail. He still couldn't quite get his muscles to relax, not when he didn't understand what Ford was trying to prove to him. "OK, you really are losing me. I figured out how much we need a month and I make sure we have it. I don't get what the problem is."

"There's no... problem. Just..." Ford looked lost, eyes squinting at his brother and the book in quick succession. "Not what I expected? It's just not  _like_  you to not scrimp and save. At least from what the kids have told me." He raised his hands up as Stan looked about ready to retort. "Come on, Stan. You can't tell me the stories they told about your summer together don't paint you as a saver more than a spender." He smiled cheekily. "Heck, you're more likely to steal anything not bolted down."

"Hey I resent that- I definitely packed some bolt cutters when we started travelling."

Ford laughed. "Oh, I don't doubt- wait, what?"

Stan shook off the remark before he could continue that train of thought. "Anyway. Yeah, we've spent a bit more than usual for a few months, that's all. I'm keeping an eye and making sure we have enough for emergency repairs and whatnot. But everything else is up for grabs, right?"

"I... I guess."

"If you could start making some sense, that'd be real helpful."

Ford sighed, shrugging as he looked away. "I dunno, just worried whenever I want to buy something you just say yes, or something?" His eyes darted back to Stan for a second, skeptical. "You hardly ever steal things anymore either."

"That's what you think."

"...I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Good. Plausible deniability is always preferable."

" _Stan_." Ford scrubbed at his temples as if this exchange was giving him a headache. Stan almost felt proud of him for lasting this long. "Look, that wasn't the point, and there's no problem. I just found it odd and was curious, that's all." 

"Ahh, you and your curiosity." Stan grinned as Ford looked at him sharply. God, there really was nothing more fun than being able to get a rise from his brother quite so easily and with no real malice behind it. "What? I'm just saying once you've got a question in your head, you can't let go of it. It's a good thing." He leaned forward, slapping him on the shoulder. "It's what got us out here, after all."

"I guess..."

"And for the record. I don't just say yes to everything you want to buy- or did you forget about that weird, possibly sentient, plant you wanted to send back to the twins?"

"You only said no to that because it had no flowers and you thought Mabel wouldn't like it." Ford's arms raised widely at his sides in disbelief as Stan spoke. " _And_  you helped me pick out something far more likely to please both of them and far more expensive that same day!"

Stan raised an eyebrow at him, closing the book and slipping it back in the shelf above the desk where it should be. "Yeah, well... money's there to be spent, right? What's the point of having it if we don't find amazing stuff to send back to the kids on our travels?"

"What's the point...?"

"Yeah." Stan turned back to him, crossing his arms. "If we're not using the money, what's the point of it?"

"Alright... who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Stan snorted, a bark of a laugh escaping him as he shook his head. "Money's just money, Ford."

"Money's just- this coming from  _you_? Of all people?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because it's so out of character for you!" 

Stan continued to laugh, Ford's desperately confused expression more amusing by the second. "Fair. The kids would probably react the same."

"So-"

"Guess I realised some things are more important than money, that's all." Stan walked away from him, hands in his pockets.

He didn't feel the need to say everything else that was all tied up neatly in that sentence.

Like how maybe there was always the notion of family tied into money before. How someone's words had rung through his head for years and years even when he had more important things to think and worry about.

Like how once he'd had to scrimp and save every penny to keep afloat, and that once he had money it was a hard habit to crack.

Like how his pride no longer lay in how well he was doing based on money, but how well he was doing based on all the loving people around him.

And maybe, just maybe, now he had the chance- he wanted to spoil them all rotten like the Grunkle he was.

He wandered up to the railing of the deck, humming softly to himself and smiling all the while.

Didn't matter if they didn't get it, it had taken him long enough to figure it all out himself. He was just happy  _he_  had, delighted in watching Ford's eyes light up at some strange oddity they found in some small town, the look repeating once they got back on board and Stan presented it to him. Loved it more when his face quickly shifted and he gave him that almost disappointed suspicious look that asked without words whether he'd stolen it and he got to tell him truthfully that no actually he hadn't,  _thank you very much_.

He could mention so many things that this new attitude had benefited them. No expense had been spared for their little Stan'O'War II. They hadn't gone over board, but he'd made sure that they had had the  _best_  of what they could have. It was nice to have something nice to look after, maintaining the small little haven they had created far out to sea, that took them on daring adventures and out looking for fascinating discoveries.

He could mention how he'd left his business and what money he could to his successor. How if they needed help, he was sure he only had to ask Soos for some but deep down he didn't want to. Not because of some sense of pride, or any negative connotations to asking for help, but more because that money was for Soos. It was to make sure him and Melody could keep the business going without worrying, could live their lives just how they wanted, just like he and Ford were.

He could mention so much more. The way the kids gasped and squealed at the smallest of gifts proving their exploits. The phone calls and video calls from across the world that cost a lot but were worth their weight in gold just to see those bright, sparkling smiles staring back at them, ready to tell their own stories in return for their postcards and photos.

Those little moments where his heart beat with pride at having done something for the family that he had almost lost hope of having again. The ones that had helped him so much in remembering what mattered most to him, the cherished moments the memory gun had taken away.

Or perhaps it was none of that at all. Perhaps, the real reason, the crux of the matter, was that he  _felt_  like he had all the wealth the world had to offer, no matter how much money he actually had anymore. Him and his brother were sailing the world, doing what they'd always said they would, out living their _dream_. Forty years later, with so much heartbreak and time and _anger_  between them and yet even through all that, all those bridges he'd thought were burnt to cinders, here they were, where they were always meant to be.

Honestly, what was money worth against all that?

And really- he didn't think any of it needed to be said. Not really.

Ford was smart, he'd figure it out eventually.

And all of it was too sappy for him to say out loud anyway.

He heard footsteps while he was smiling at all the flitting little memories that thankfully stuck like glue to the inside of his skull now, forever burned there where he could recall them without a hitch. All the ways he'd been able to make his family smile since he'd returned to them, burning away at his core, keeping him warm against the sea breeze floating across the deck.

He felt more than saw as his brother sidled up beside him, half caught up in his own happy thoughts.

"Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"So... did you just admit that we're all more important than money?"

He could hear the smirk in his brother's voice, recompense for his earlier teasing. He refused to indulge him by glancing over at the burning glee, though he couldn't school his face into the scowl he felt was appropriate to respond with. "Shut it, you."

"Oh, no, no, no. I think the kids need to hear that too, you know."

"...I hate you."

"No, you don't."


End file.
